


The autumn affair - Illya

by HollyMcCoy



Series: The autumn affair [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Slash, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyMcCoy/pseuds/HollyMcCoy
Summary: Illya's version of the aftermath of their first mission together





	The autumn affair - Illya

**Author's Note:**

> There is a piece, that shows Napoleon's take on things:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187920

We stumbled through the door and Napoleon slammed it shut behind us. I refused to let my guard down before we had checked everything, however. Still dripping mud and water I made my way around my half of the room. I met my new boss halfway at a dirty window and he shook his head at me. He looked impossibly tired and I felt a small surge of pride, that I felt no worse than he looked. We had worked well together, despite our obvious differences. I continued and went over his side of the room. I found nothing and waited for Napoleon to finish checking the bathroom. The temptation to lean against the door for just a second was almost overwhelming. But only contemplating it, let me hear my sergeant in the Navy yell: “The wall stands on its own, it doesn’t need your support!”.

Well, it loses something in the translation. I was staring blearily at the floor, when Napoleon finally appeared again, shaking his head. I straightened up and dutifully reported: “Clean”.

He gestured me to the bathroom and told me to take the first shower. I was not about to protest. He wanted to find something to eat and I had a feeling his natural charm would make that a lot easier for him, than it would be for me. I might have had to resign to breaking in a vending machine, where he could appeal to a woman’s finer nature. I almost snorted, but was too tired for it. Even after such little time as partners I could see, that the rumours about him were greatly underreporting his adventures. Napoleon Solo flirted with anything that had a pulse. I had come to the conclusion, that he wasn’t even aware of it. He was just so sure of himself and people find that attractive.

I began stripping my shirt of my shoulders on my way to the bathroom, not thinking if he might still be watching. There were no obvious wounds to hide and I was so cold, that my thinking was sluggish. We must have spent over an hour carefully treading water in that lake. Then we had to change position and while that meant, we could crouch in the water, it meant serious risk of hypothermia for us both. We had pressed together for warmth, but I was still cold to my bones. Winter in Russia is cold, and I was sure I had been colder before. But this, as they say, was now and this was here. A hot or even lukewarm shower sounded like a very good idea.

I stripped off and put my gun on the toilet seat, within easy reach of the shower. I turned on the water, as hot as I could stand it and used the small bottles the hotel provided to clean my hair as best as I could. Then I turned of the water and soaped myself mechanically, checking for wounds at the same time. There weren’t any beside the usual assorted scrapes and bruises, that never seemed to completely go away.

I put a towel around my waist and picked up my wet clothes and my gun. I would hang them up and wait for my boss to return. Hopefully he would have been able to procure some food. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I blinked. My mouth had gone dry in an instant and I could only stare. Napoleon sat on a chair in only his very wet underwear, which left little to the imagination. I had known he was attractive, I had eyes after all. I had even seen the effect he had on some people, but this… I swallowed. He was beautiful. His muscular legs, a very shapely butt and light dusting of dark hair on a very well-defined chest. I swallowed again and gestured dumbly behind me: “Eta still goryachaya voda left” [There is still hot water left].

He looked like he wanted to say something, but then just nodded and went into the bathroom. I stood there a moment longer and when I realised, that I had just spoken in Russian, I flushed. I gripped my trousers harder in anger and shame. How could I let myself lose control like that? I was better than this! I had been trained to control any insensible impulses and I always held onto that control. It made me an effective agent and a reliable asset. I set my jaw determinedly against my exhaustion. It was a thing of the mind and the human mind can be controlled.

I forced myself to hang up my clothes, to give them a chance to dry and then picked up Napoleon’s as well. Looking around I spotted a dry shirt on the bed. I smiled to myself, imagining the tale Napoleon must have spun, to lay his hands on it. I put it on and sat on the bed. There were prepacked sandwiches, but next to them, I spotted Napoleons disassembled weapon. I cringed inwardly, for not thinking of taking care of my own gun earlier. I quickly disassembled it. I looked around for something to dry it with, then shrugged and took of the shirt again. I wiped the parts dry as best as I could, taking care to clean off the mud. I put the shirt back on and stared at the disassembled weapon for a moment. I had no gun oil and neither had Napoleon. I shrugged and reassembled our guns, again. It would have to do for now.

I was just putting back a full clip back in Napoleon’s special, when he came out of the bathroom. He looked sheepish for a moment, for letting it out of his sight, if even for a moment. I kept my eyes on my work and only looked up, when I was ready to hand him his weapon. There was hardly ever a point in openly embarrassing a superior. It was enough that he knew, that I knew.

We ate in silence and when we had finished, I waited for Napoleon to decide, who would take the first watch. I was shocked, but relieved when he announced we could both sleep. His reasoning was sound and I was glad, I would be able to rest before morning.  

I wearily got up from the bed and threw one of the pillows on the floor. When I was halfway done pulling part of the covers from the bed, Napoleon’s startled voice stopped me: “What are you doing?”.

My exhausted mind tried to make sense of his question. I looked at the sheets in my hand and then back at him. Surely, he would not begrudge me a pillow and a blanket? The pettiness this would require was not something, he had shown so far. I stared at him in continued confusion and explained: “You sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor”.

“Why?”.

For a minute I considered, that my command of the English language had left me. What was he talking about? There was only one bed in the room and he had decided, that there would be no watch. Did he expect me to stay up anyway? No, he had said, we were to sleep. I looked around the small room again, but a second bed failed to materialize. Napoleon was my superior and for a lack of a better answer to his question, I said so.

Then I was sure, I must have hit my head and lost any ability to speak English, for I heard him tell me, we would share the bed! Surely not! The bed was small and there was no way, we would be able to lay down without me infringing on his personal space. Why was he insisting on this madness? I could have been asleep by now. Not knowing what to say, I watched in incomprehension as he threw his pillow on the floor and exclaimed: “If you sleep on the floor, so will I”.

It was like my brain short circuited. I was trapped in a nightmare. My superior was asking me to do something, that went against every previous experience and I was too exhausted to make a sensible decision. Before I could work my mind out of the maze I found myself in, Napoleon issued an actual order: “Get on the bed Agent Kuryakin”.

The tone of his voice called to the core of my training. Without a conscious decision I stood up straight and I felt all emotion pull deep within me. There I could feel the cold anger and the sharp hurt his words had procured. I obviously had made a mistake. Napoleon’s apparent kindness and easy-going nature had lulled me into a false sense of security. I had believed that we might become partners, that he might value me beyond my listed skills. All through the mission, we had worked well together. I was a fool to trust him. No one was trustworthy, not even your own family. And this man was virtually a stranger to me. True, I had read his file and I was sure, that he had read mine. However, his quick smile and his unquestioning acceptance of me, had made me slip up. I made sure not to show any of my thoughts. There was no sense in handing him more weapons, even if we were on the same side. In a voice as empty as I could manage, I clarified: “Is that an order, sir?”.

Napoleon’s eyebrows went up and his eyes went soft, before he hid them behind his hands, as he scrubbed his face. Then he lowered them and looked mournfully at me: “Of course not. I just want to go to sleep”.

I stared at him uncomprehending. This was not an answer I had been ready for. He continued to look at me and I could not shake the feeling, that he was trying to tell me something. I mentally shook myself and tried to take all of him in. His shoulders were slumped, his head kept dipping and he was holding unto his pillow like it was a shield. His brow was knitted in worry and his lips showed a hopeful half smile. He looked ready to drop on the spot and not at all like somebody trying to make a point about the chain of command.

“So what’s it to be? A night on the floor or on the bed? Where will we sleep?”, he asked.

Had I made a mistake in judging him too harshly? Maybe my first impression was correct after all. If this had not been an order, then Napoleon had not issued a single one through the whole mission. But why then, would he have called me Agent Kuryakin? To make a point after all? I realised my mind was to sluggish to work things out and Napoleon still stood watching me, in what seemed like trepidation. I decided to trust my instincts and my new partner. If he was safe, I would not need to freeze him out and so I allowed myself to grumble: “Let us sleep”, and picked up my pillow.

As I had calculated, I was well inside Napoleon’s personal space, when we laid down. However, he seemed to be determined to not mind, and so we wished each other a good night. I must have been asleep not 30 seconds later.

 

I was woken up suddenly by an abrupt motion right beside me. My training kicked in before my muscles had a chance to move and I kept perfectly still. I kept my breathing deep and regular, even as I remembered where I was and who I was with. I methodically took stock of my limbs and where they connected with Napoleon. We were lying pressed close together, our legs intertwined. Napoleon’s arms were pressed against my chest and by the feel of things we were almost holding hands. The thing that stopped me from just untangling my legs and getting up was pressed against Napoleons thigh, however. I was sporting a heavy erection and there was really just a manifestly small chance, that the man, who was technically my boss, would not notice it.

I must confess, I did not know what to do. Back home, this alone would have been enough to have me demoted and send to a Gulag. Here, with this man, I did not know, what it would mean. I was not surprised that Napoleon’s closeness would sexually excite me. I had no illusions that he would consider me as a sexual partner. Napoleon Solo was a lady’s man. But I had enough self-knowledge, to know what attracted me about him. He was a very handsome man and moved with a grace, that belied his muscular form. He was much more intelligent, than he let on and had a quick wit and dry humour, that matched my own. He had been partnered with a man, that his whole upbringing taught him to consider an enemy. Yet, he was nothing if accommodating and kind to me. He showed genuine interest in me and surprisingly enough even shared some of my interests. And as I said, Napoleon was extremely easy on the eyes. Had I met him outside of work, I would have gladly spent the night with him.  But I did not, and he was my new boss. While I was fairly certain UNCLE would not have me killed outright, being shipped back home, certainly was a distinct possibility. And the things that awaited me there, should I come back as an embarrassment to Mother Russia, would make me wish for a Gulag. So I pretended to sleep, while feverishly wishing, I had insisted on sleeping on the floor.

Just my training kept me from having a panic-attack then and there. Then I heard him take a bracing breath and then felt him sitting up in bed. In the process he managed to untangle our legs. More importantly my erection was no longer pressing against his thigh, but against the warm sheets. I grunted in surprise and hastily added a sleepy grumble while adjusting my position. I continued faking sleep, with my heart beating in my chest like a drum. What was he doing? I tried to brace myself for being shoved of the bed or a punch to the face. How else could a man react, that was such an avid pursuer of the fairer sex, when presented with an erection pressed against his thigh? By shaking him gently by the shoulder and telling him to wake up, it turns out.

I made a show of giving a start and looked around the room in feigned confusion. Napoleon smiled at me and simply told me: “Let’s go”.

I stared at him and worked hard to let no expression show on my face. Nothing? I had sexually assaulted him, and he seemed to want to pretend nothing had happened? He had me in his hands and he was just letting this go? Finally, I manged a nod and started to push back the covers. Napoleon got up hastily as well, picked up his still damp clothes and vanished in the bathroom. I sat in bed for a moment and stared at the closed bathroom door. My partner was a strange man, indeed. I considered, that he might be more complex, than I gave him credit for.

We made it back to headquarters without any further difficulties. Napoleon was driving, and I had a lot of time to contemplate my new partner. I came to no satisfactory conclusion and resolved to keep a close eye on him. He was a puzzle. And I loved puzzles.

 


End file.
